"He was asking who was with you in the car when you dropped Turrell Baylor off. Was something said in the car that could make this whole thing worse?"

"No!" Brenda snapped, "he came in, throwin' subpoenas around, tryin' to get us to turn against each other. This is all about me."

"It's not just about you." Will held up his own subpoena, "I'm in it up to my neck. The next time Mr. Goldman shows up, go into your office and lock the door and call the city attorney, which is what you should have done this morning."

Brenda let out a frustrated growl. "Will, I swear, do not push my buttons right now, I am in no mood."

"If everyone waited around for you to be in a good mood to talk to you you would live in silence." Will deadpanned.

Brenda smirked, "I just really don't need you lecturin' me, is all. I've got a lot on my plate and on my mind."

Will nodded, "and Captain Raydor moved out."

"And Captain Raydor mov- what? No!" Brenda huffed. "How did you know about that?"

"She submitted a change of address form." Will sat down at the table, "tough break. Though no one really thought it would last."

"For your information, she's just stayin' with her daughter until her audit is over."

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Brenda, break ups happen all the time."

"Just because you're single you want the rest of us to be single too." Brenda rolled her eyes, "she didn't move out… mainly because we live in her house. You'll know we've broken up when I submit a change of address form. Is that all? Is this interlude into my personal life over?"

Will and Sharon had never really seen eye to eye. At first it was because of his clear favoritism of Brenda and later it was because Sharon managed to win fair lady's heart – much to everyone's surprise and Will and Fritz's chagrin.

The thing that annoyed her is that she still considered Will and Fritz to be good friends but they couldn't just be happy for her. Usually, she could deal with their side remarks and nay saying because at the end of the day she went home to Sharon. Now that she hadn't seen her in almost a week it was harder to stand there and listen to Will and insist that they were fine when she wasn't even sure anymore.

"Can I go back to my case?"

"Yes, go." Will waved her off nonchalantly.

As if he didn't know what he was doing, Brenda thought with a scoff.

Brenda sat at the table finishing the last of her sticky bun. Sharon had returned to the house again – Brenda wasn't sure when – but she had returned and she had stuck a business card up on the fridge with her 'is there life before coffee?' magnet.

Brenda wasn't exactly sure how long the card had been there because she'd been getting take-out most nights. Even when she wasn't there, Sharon was still taking care of her.

When they had first come out as a couple they had both had to swear that their personal relationship wouldn't affect their work. Brenda was kicking herself over ever coming out – not because she was ashamed or regretful – because maybe if Sharon hadn't sworn, maybe she'd still be at home right now. She could recuse herself from the case without being reprimanded for letting her personal feelings get in the way of her job.

Brenda stood from the table and plucked the card from the fridge. There was a thud and a crash and Brenda whipped around to see Joel on the table, lapping at the spilled coffee.

"Kitty! –I mean Joel!—" she picked him up from the table and deposited him on the floor, "I can't turn my back on you for a second. I don't have time to clean this up." She frowned.

She deposited the orange striped cat on the floor and grabbed a handful of dish towels to throw over the spilled coffee. She could almost hear Sharon's teasing words, "your cat is almost as badly behaved as you are." Sharon would have wrapped her arms around her and kissed her and told her she'd clean the coffee up, as long as it meant that Brenda wouldn't ruin another set of her dish towels.

Brenda made a mental note to pick up a new set of dish towels on the way home. She looked down at Joel, he had managed to find the spot where the coffee dripped down from the table and lapped at the puddle it made.

"This one guy, he takes about thirty toasted almonds and lines then up and then he-"

"Can we just… focus?" Brenda snapped. Six weeks and counting since she'd had sex and the last thing she needed was Miss Sindy Showers going on about sex. Granted, very strange sex, but at this point the mere mention of sex had visions of Sharon naked and strategically covered in chocolate dancing through her head.

Oh, dear Lord, there were those images again. She was supposed to be concentrating on getting to the bottom of the murder of the cross-dressing clergyman and all she could think about was bending Sharon over their kitchen table and-

"Chief?"

"What?" Brenda demanded, a blush creeping over her features.

"Are you alright, Chief?" Gabriel asked, "you look a little…"

"Detective Gabriel, I think we've heard all we need to from Miss Showers, hm?" Brenda started digging through her bag. "Why don't you show her out?"

Sindy stood, "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Brenda scoffed, "you did not embarrass me." Sindy lingered for a moment while Brenda refused to make eye contact as she rifled through the contents of her purse. "Where is my cell phone?"

"This way, please, ma'am." Gabriel motioned to the door, though his look of concern was directed toward his master in command.

The door closed behind Gabriel and Sindy Showers and Brenda finally found her phone. Victorious, she hit the speed dial button for Sharon and reached her voicemail. "You remember a couple o' years ago they were talkin' about incentivizin' the lapd so cases'd get closed faster? Well, I've got one for you. Finish up this stupid investigation and I'm going to cover you in honey and devour you… inch… by… inch."

"I don't deal much in forgiveness, Corporal, but I sure am sorry to have to arrest you for murder in the first degree." Brenda retrieved the set of cuffs from her purse and Chris Wycoff stood stoically waiting the cuffing.

Brenda began mechanically reciting his Miranda rights but her mind was far from what she was doing. You can't pick your parents… she was fortunate that Clay and Willie Ray had always been supportive of her. When she first came out to them as bisexual they certainly didn't understand it but they tried their damnedest to be supportive. So much so that they went a little too far in the other direction a couple of times but they had never made her feel bad or any less loved or like there was anything wrong with her despite their and her religious beliefs.

Hate was so wasteful. Fear and hate and judgment, it was all so wasteful. This young man, barely old enough to drink, was going to go to prison and everything could have turned out differently if his father had only supported him.

Of course, it was always easier to look at others' mistakes. That was probably why became a cop, it was always easier to justify her life choices based off of other people's mistakes. Some mistakes were justifiable, maybe his attorney could get it down to manslaughter.

She desperately wanted to call Sharon again, even just to hear her voice on the voicemail, but she decided to restrain herself. She'd left enough messages already. If Sharon was going to call her she'd call, one more teary message wouldn't make a difference.

Maybe Sharon had moved out… Brenda hadn't wanted to consider the possibility but now, as she handed off Corporal Wycoff to Gabriel, she couldn't help but wonder if Sharon had abandoned her. Had she finally pushed Sharon to her breaking point? Had Sharon had enough of her? Fritz and Will wanted to know if she'd wised up and dumped Sharon but the truth was that Sharon was probably too good for her. Fritz had been too good for her, too. Will… well, he was another story, but she had come to realize that theirs wasn't a forever love.

Sharon was different. Sharon was always different. Was it too late? Had she lost her already?

Brenda steeled herself and stepped out into the murder room. "Hey, how did you get back in here?" She demanded when she saw Goldman.

"Just making a delivery." He opened his folder and pulled out a final sheet of paper, "David Gabriel."

"Right here," he beckoned.

"Congratulations, Detective Gabriel," Goldman handed over the subpoena.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank Chief Johnson." Goldman turned to look Brenda in the eyes. "She's the one who got you into this."

Brenda kept her eyes on the slimy attorney as he walked out of the squad room. She was already sick to death of him. She couldn't imagine how that puny man was turning her entire world upside down. She had expected Mrs. Baylor's attorney to be tall and handsome and at least look the part of a worthy opponent.

As soon as he was out of sight and escorted by a uniform, Brenda turned and walked back into her office. She shut the door and locked it. Moving to her desk, she opened her candy drawer. She needed the big guns, she needed a ho-ho.

Through the window she saw her squad welcoming David Gabriel back into the bosom of their good graces. She wished that she felt as jubilant as everyone else but she just felt sick. It was all her fault. Her team would stand up for no matter what; they were too good for her too.

Back at the house she opened a new box of ho-hos and opened a bottle of Merlot. Sitting at the table, wallowing, she polished off most of the ho-hos and half of the bottle of wine. She was hoping to steel her nerves enough to call Sharon again. Maybe if she was drunk she wouldn't cry.

A knock resounded through the kitchen. "It's open probably." Brenda called out.

The door opened and Fritz walked in, setting a bag of take-out on the counter. "You shouldn't leave your door unlocked." Brenda took another sip of wine and shrugged noncommittally. "Your squad told me you went home early, had to see it with my own eyes."

Brenda rubbed her eyes then ran her hand through her hair. "Case was over. Didn't feel like being there." Tears threatened to fall but she held them back as she took another sip of her wine. "Baylor's attorney came back and subpoenaed Detective Gabriel today so that officially puts my entire division in hot water because of a decision made by me and me alone. And I forgot to pick up new dishtowels… I'm wonderin' about, now… how much worse can things get?"

"A little worse maybe," Fritz produced a subpoena. "The city, the LAPD, Pope, you, your team, me… just about everyone except Captain Raydor."

The small jab at Sharon registered somewhere in Brenda's mind but she ignored it tonight. "You too? Why?"

"Remember when Turrell first presented himself? I volunteered to provide protective custody."

"Oh, Fritz… I'm so sorry… I've gotten everyone into this huge mess… and I've probably lost Sharon over it too because even though she's not being subpoenaed she's doin' that damn audit and she's been stayin' with her daughter and I just… what if she never comes back? What if-" The glass clattered on the wood table as Brenda's unsteady hands knocked it over. "Oh lord!"

"I'll clean that up," Fritz stood and moved to grab a handful of paper towels from the kitchen.

Brenda looked down at the paper and the words "intent to kill him" jumped off the page at her. She stared down at them, mesmerized by the accusing words. The mental images of the crime scene appeared in her mind's eye, seeing in vivid detail the stains on the concrete where Turrell Baylor's head was smashed into the wall. She would fight tooth and nail to put herself behind bars if it were anyone else… Though she may never admit it out loud, she certainly knew that he wouldn't be safe, she had acted with a callous disregard for Turrell's life. At the time she had thought that his life wasn't worth the air he breathed, he'd murdered an old man and a child in cold blood, he'd barely batted an eyelash that his brother was killed in his stead. Turrell Baylor was a miserable human being; it wasn't right that Turrell should live when good people had died at his hand and because of his actions. She never considered that he would have such a horrific and terrifying death.

What would it feel like to have your head smashed into a wall? At what point did he die? She found herself, for the first time, hoping that it was quick and that he hadn't suffered. She had acted recklessly and, for the first time, wasn't sure anymore if she'd do the same thing if she had it to do over again.

Intent to kill him, the words echoed through her head. Intent to kill him. Until finally she broke down into tears. Fritz rushed to pull her into his arms. "What have I done?" She sobbed, "what have I done? What have I done?"